Laugh at the World
by WanderingJane
Summary: She wants to say more, to make a joke or a wry comment – anything to lighten the somber mood – but she can't. She feels awkward and out of place, the way she did when she was younger, before she discovered the internet and music and her own voice.


Darcy doesn't remember what exactly prompted her into studying political science. Sure, she'd always been opinionated, not just with politics, but religion, music, art, literature, movies – pretty much anything under the sun. She remembers arguing with her parents, teachers, classmates, principals, strangers, and just about everyone about women's rights, civil rights, economics and education. She remembers obsessively watching Jon Stewart when she was a teenager. She doesn't have time anymore, but she misses it.

The point is, politics are important to her. Even if she can't remember why she chose it as her field of study. Still, she doesn't regret it. She's trained to understand that different places have different ways of keeping order. She gets that there are rules and protocol that should be respected, no matter how different they are from what she's used to.

It's the reason why she understands that even though the idea of kings and monarchy ruling over another planet makes her stomach lurch, she stills respects it enough to hold her tongue and not make snarky remarks. Oh, she wants to. Odin's golden throne makes her want to scream and storm the barricades or something, but she knows that monarchy is the Asgardian way. It's beyond arrogant for her to pretend that she knows better than them. So she squelches down her disapproval, clamps her mouth shut, and eyes the man walking alongside her.

"There's no need to be nervous," he says, his voice soft. To anyone else, he might have sounded apathetic or even bored, but she knew him well enough to recognize the hint of worry that colored his words.

"Easy for you to say," she scoffs. She wants to say more, to make a joke or a wry comment – anything to lighten the somber mood – but she can't. She feels awkward and out of place, the way she did when she was younger, before she discovered the internet and music and her own voice. Standing before Odin and the rest of Asgard, she feels all of two feet tall – a mortal amongst gods. '_Shhyeah, literally,'_ a voice inside her head supplies.

As they get closer and closer to Odin and his imposing throne, Darcy feels her heart start to race and her palms sweat. Oh, god. What if they hate her and throw her down the Bifrost? It's a long way down and she might break her iPod or, you know, her neck. And then she'll be dead and will never get tosee the end of "Supernatural" and that's just not right because she's been shipping Dean and Cas for years and she needs them to end up together, okay? She needs to know what'll happen because she's have a frakking heart attack if she misses it or if she never gets to go to Comic-Con because she's always wanted to go, but she's never been able to and, oh god. What if she never sees her parents again? Or Jane again? Or Erik? Or . She's so going to die.

She's on the verge of a heart attack when she feels him grasp her hand tightly in his own perpetually cold one. She turns to look at him, startled and afraid. Is it rude or disrespectful to hold hands like this? She's not familiar with Asgardian culture but she's learned enough from her classes at university to know that it's deeply forbidden in many Earth cultures. Who knows what ideas and rules gods have.

She's about to try to discreetly – yeah, right, like she could ever be discreet – pull her hand away when he bends down and whispers in her ear, "Just breathe. It'll be fine."

She looks at him and a terrible thought strikes her. What if they don't throw her down the Bifrost? What if they just erase her memories, make her forget about Asgard and Mew-Mew and Thor and _Loki_. The thought makes the blood freeze in her veins and she clutches his hand tighter in hers.

Before she can even think about bolting, dragging him along with her to hide, anywhere (Gotham, Coruscant, Middle-Earth, Canada, the list is endless), she feels him come to an abrupt stop next to her. Why is he – oh. They've finally made it down the endless hallway and are now standing directly in front of Odin and the rest of the court.

She feels her legs tremble. She's terrified, more scared than when Bruce freaked out and went all green and smash-y that one time she spilled coffee on him. And yet, weirdly enough, she also wants to laugh because Odin's eye patch, despite being all golden and flashy (she winces again, thinking of third-world countries and poverty and starving children and greedy politicians), reminds her of Director Fury. She imagines Fury sitting on the golden throne and holding Gandalf's freaky staff and ohgod she's going to burst into really inappropriate laughter.

This is the part where he's supposed to whisper comforting words or calm her down. But he doesn't. (He's always surprising her; It's one of the reasons she loves him so very much.) And so she lets out a snort of laughter that's quickly followed by a fit of giggles. She's horrified and perfectly aware of the fact that she looks like a lunatic and is seriously increasing her chances of getting chucked down the Bifrost, but she can't seem to stop laughing.

When the hysteria fades and she's calm enough to wipe the tears away, she glances to her right, expecting to see annoyance, or worse, disappointment. Instead, she's met with mischievous green eyes that are alight with mirth. He grins broadly at her and she melts just a little bit. She'll never get over the fact that he can smile and laugh and do anything that isn't brooding sulkily and mysteriously in the corner like some ridiculously dressed but oh-so-hot vampire. Despite the severity of the situation, she can't help but smile back at him.

A throat clears lightly and they both turn to look at the severe man staring down at them. Her grin slips a little, but it doesn't vanish completely. She starts to feel more confident, and with that confidence comes the bold attitude that she's known for. It, along with the complete trust and confidence she has in the man standing next to her, allows her to literally talk to gods.

In the end, she makes them laugh. Well, not Odin, 'cause that's like impossible. But his good eye manages to look a little less angry. There's no twinkly-Dumbledore-action going on, but it's enough to makes her feel pretty damn good about herself.

And Loki's happy. He doesn't wear his emotions on his face like Thor, but she can practically feel the joy pouring out from him. He'll never be on good terms with his father, and the people of Asgard will probably never be fully comfortable with him (they never have) but it's okay. It's as close to normalcy as he will ever get. And if he's happy, Darcy's happy. And if Darcy's happy, Coulson's paper work will get filed on time. And if that happens, Coulson will be happy, or well, less grumpy. And if Coulson isn't grumpy, then the other Avengers will be happy. So really, Loki's mood has a really big effect on everyone.

And Darcy's more than willing to do her share at ensuring everyone's happiness. 'Cause she's awesome that way.

(On their way back to Earth, Darcy asks Loki what the odds are of her introducing Odin to Fury and instigating an epic eye-patch bromance. Loki just laughs and kisses her.)


End file.
